


Hit Me With Your Best Shot

by peacenik_jesus



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 15:32:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18055190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacenik_jesus/pseuds/peacenik_jesus
Summary: Tumblr prompt.  Jesus encourages Aaron to use his left arm when fighting...and almost regrets it.





	Hit Me With Your Best Shot

The promise of spring could be felt in the warmth of the sun cutting through the bite of the chilly air. Steam curled from Aaron’s nostrils like a bull as he sized up his opponent, and Jesus couldn’t help but grin at how serious the man looked. It was nice that Aaron was taking their lessons to heart. It was also incredibly adorable.

Aaron had been wary of using his prosthetic arm in combat against Jesus, despite the trained martial artist assuring him it would be okay, and even necessary if Aaron was going to learn to properly defend himself. Today, Jesus wasn’t going to give him any excuses for phoning it in with his left arm. They’d been working on forearm strike variations, and it was time for Aaron to show what he had learned.

Jesus made a gesture for Aaron to come at him, and the game was on.

It was almost choreographed, how in sync the two moved. Each strike was blocked, each jab anticipated. Again, Aaron seemed to be favoring his right, and Jesus caught Aaron’s right wrist, ducking under his arm and pulling it tight behind the other man’s back.

“Use your left, Aaron! Your lef–”

An elbow came back and caught Jesus square in the temple, cutting him off as he staggered–dazed–for a minute before falling on his ass. He could almost hear the cartoon birdies tweeting around his head. It took several seconds for him to realize that Aaron was kneeling down in front of him, face full of concern as he steadied Jesus with a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

Jesus blinked slowly, pain blossoming in his temple, making his head throb with a blinding headache. “I’m fine.” He reached up to touch the sore spot where elbow and head had connected, and hissed in pain as he felt the swelling knot.

Aaron was wincing in empathy. “That’s going to hurt in the morning…”

“More so than it already does?” Jesus asked with a humorless laugh, then held out his hand. “Help me up.”

“I think you should sit for a few minutes,” Aaron protested, his hand pressing more firmly against Jesus’ shoulder to keep him seated on the ground. “I’m worried I gave you a concussion. Do you know what day it is? How many fingers do you see?”

Jesus gave Aaron an incredulous look. “I barely know what day it is on a good day, Aaron.”

“Humor me. Please?”

With a sigh, Jesus focused on the hand in front of his face before his eyes drifted back up to meet Aaron’s. “Is this a trick question? I see five metal fingers, which isn’t a fair test since you can’t bend those.”

Aaron quietly laughed. “Alright, good point. I think the fact that you can still sass me proves you don’t have a concussion.”

“Will you help me up now? The grass is still kind of damp from the frost this morning. My ass is getting cold.”

Aaron took the hand that Jesus held out and gently pulled him to his feet.

A wave of dizziness immediately hit, and Jesus grabbed the front of Aaron’s shirt to stop himself from losing his balance again. Aaron’s right arm went around him, clutching him tight.

“Whoa, easy does it. I’ve got you, take your time. As little as you are, you’re pretty solid and I’m not sure I’m strong enough to drag you back to Hilltop alone.” Though he was trying to tease, Jesus could hear the concern in Aaron’s voice, obviously still worried he had done permanent damage.

“That would be fun to explain to Tara,” Jesus quipped, managing a smirk.

“Maybe I’ll wait until nightfall and just leave you at the gate. Like a baby on the doorstep.”

The two stood there for several moments as Jesus waited for the dizzy spell to pass, Aaron watching his face like a hawk to make sure he wasn’t going to pass out on him. “I’m sorry for clocking you.”

“Don’t be,” Jesus assured him. “I told you to hit me with it. You need to get used to using it so that it comes naturally in a fight. The good news is, I’m short…imagine if I were a few inches taller. You would have knocked my teeth out.”

“Thank god for small miracles, and smaller ninjas.” Switching arms to hold Jesus with his prosthetic arm instead, Aaron reached up and gently touched the goose egg forming on Jesus’ temple, wincing again with sympathy. “I’m pretty sure there’s only one thing that will make this better.”

“A knock on the other side to even it out?” Jesus asked with a teasing tone, hands still clutching the front of Aaron’s shirt, afraid gravity might try and pull him back down.

A laugh huffed out of the other man’s mouth, and Jesus could feel the warm breath on his face before Aaron’s fingers gently smoothed the flyaway hairs back from around the welt. “Tempting, but not quite,” he murmured before leaning in and softly touching Jesus’ temple with his lips. “Gracie always says that’s the only way to cure a boo-boo.”

Jesus couldn’t stop the smile that peeled his lips back from his teeth, his cheeks tinging with pink. “Smart kid. I think it feels better already.”

“Better give it a second dose just to be sure,” Aaron quipped, pressing another gentle kiss against it.

As he started to pull back again, Jesus slid one hand up from the front of Aaron’s shirt to his neck, holding him firmly and searching his eyes. Aaron felt mesmerized by the sparkle in Jesus’ eyes that could shift from a soft, pale green to the clearest blue depending on how the light hit them. A warm hand cupped Jesus’ jaw, thumb lightly stroking along the well-kept beard.

“Why is it I can never say no to you?” Aaron’s voice was soft, a smile tugging at his lips at Jesus’ silent request. 

“Consider it your debt for almost knocking me out,” Jesus teased in an equally soft voice.

Laughing with a slight shake of his head, Aaron couldn’t help but grin. “You’re such a brat.”

“You’re the one who said kisses make it all better.”

“I don’t recall hitting you in the mouth…”

“Details, details…” Jesus dismissed the protest playfully, gently urging Aaron closer until their lips met, eliciting a soft moan from Aaron. The kiss naturally deepened, the two melting into each other as they both enjoyed the exchange, and Jesus began to feel lightheaded for an entirely different reason. He slid his arms around Aaron’s neck, pressing his body closer. “I feel a little lightheaded again, you better not let me go.”

Aaron could tell that Jesus wasn’t being serious, and wasn’t in danger of passing out, but his arms encircled the man’s waist and held him tighter nonetheless. He brushed the tip of his nose against Jesus’ before planting tender kisses against the soft pink lips. “I don’t plan to.”

“Ever?” Jesus murmured, sparkling gaze meeting Aaron’s eyes with cautious optimism.

“Ever,” Aaron assured, sealing the promise by drawing Jesus into a languid kiss.


End file.
